Poems, Volumen2

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Página 45 - Glares at one that nods and winks behind a slowlydying fire. Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns. What is that to him that reaps not harvest of his youthful joys
Página 32 - great Achilles, whom we knew. Though much is taken, much abides; and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. LOCKSLEY HALT..
Página 201 - Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go. Come from the 'lying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon ; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee
Página 74 - Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death. " 'T is life, whereof our nerves are scant, O life, not death, for which we pant; More life, and fuller, that I want." 1 ceased, and sat as one forlorn. Then said the voice, in quiet scorn,
Página 410 - But Philip chatter'd more than brook or bird ; Old Philip; all about the fields you caught His weary daylong chirping, like the dry High-elbow'd grigs that leap in summer grass.. I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling, And here and there a foamy
Página 39 - arms, and silent in a last embrace. Cursed be the social wants that sin against the strength of youth! Cursed be the social lies that warp us from the living truth ! Cursed be the sickly forms that err from honest Nature's rule ! Cursed be the gold that gilds the straitened forehead of the fool! Well,
Página 107 - Still creeping with the creej ing hours That lead me to my Lord : Make Thou my spirit pure and clear As are the frosty skies, Or this first snowdrop of the year That in my bosom lies. n. As these white robes are soiled and dark, To yonder shining ground ; As this pale taper's earthly spark,
Página 40 - Where is comfort ? in division of the records of the mind? Can I part her from herself, and love her, as 1 knew her, kind? I remember one that perished: sweetly did she speak and move: Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was to love. Can I think of her as
Página 156 - sound of a voice that is still! Break, break, break, At the foot of thy crags, oh Sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead THE POET'S SONG. THE rain had fallen, the Poet arose, He
Página 99 - And all that else the years will show, The Poet-forms of stronger hours, The vast Republics that may grow, The Federations and the Powers; Titanic forces taking birth In divers seasons, divers climes; For we are Ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times. So sleeping, so aroused from sleep Through sunny decades new and strange,

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